When some things hit twenty-five they become an antique.
Earlier in June some of us noted the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Tiananmen Square Massacre. I remember when that happened. I was in the hospital trying to NOT go all the way into labor.
I could go into great detail here about the ensuing few weeks (I almost did). If you are a Mom, you have your own stories. If you are not a Mom, you probably are not interested in the "Mom" stories. I'll just sum it up.
Twenty-five years ago Mr. Marvelous and I were blessed with Mr. Marvelous Jr.
He was the biggest baby born into my family and no one is interested in beating his record of 10 pounds 9 ounces.
He was the light of his Grandpa and Grandma's lives as he was their first and only grandchild.
He is incredibly talented musically.
He is an avid historian, especially of western Europe. His Grandaddy loves that about him and they can talk history for hours.
He has a gift for languages.
He understands grace.
I am so flawed as a mother but he is very forgiving. God has used him to teach me some very, very important lessons.
Here is one of my favorite pictures (and the one that will get me in the least amount of trouble).
Happy Birthday son! Thanks for giving me the gift of a life-time; that of being a mother. Better yet, of being your mother.
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